Tragedy In Waiting
by risolyandiwys
Summary: Jane delivers news that confirms Maura's suspicions, and Maura contemplates the fairness of it. / JM. One-shot.


**Pairing:** Jane/Maura  
**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Rizzoli & Isles belongs to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, and TNT.

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**Tragedy In Waiting**

a Rizzoli & Isles fan fiction

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The complexion of her skin is paler than you have ever seen it and you are unsurprised to realize that there is something very wrong with the woman who is normally vibrant, even glowing. While you do not need to question what is surely on the tip of her tongue, you feel a hint of panic settling in as you acknowledge that your fears, your suspicions, were correct. You have known since the symptoms first appeared, well before her first appointment with her doctor nearly a month and a half ago. You sat by her and you held her hand as she endured various tests. While she remained silent, you felt every tremor that raced through her, and you hid your own fear and became the source of strength that she so needed.

"I'm sick," she says softly.

"I know," you admit, and she nods knowingly when you add, "I've suspected as much for a while."

Your best friend is sick, and you _knew_ she was. And right now you don't know what to do or to say, because as well as you know her, you have never been good at comforting people. Everything you try to say usually comes out awkward and clinical. Before you can open your mouth to utter a single word of solace, however, she is all around you, a long arm around you holding you close while she cradles the back of your head. Long fingers grab a fistful of your shirt, surely wrinkling it, but you can't find it in yourself to care as she nuzzles your neck and runs her fingers through your hair. It's a habit she has picked up in your time being friends, claiming that it soothes her nerves, and you know it comforts you so you don't object. You wrap your arms around her waist and god; you don't ever want to let her go. What you do want is to block this out, to rewind six months and forget the endless bouts of illness that made you suspicious while she merely brushed them off as exhaustion.

"It's… not great, obviously, but I have options. I was hoping you could talk me through them, help me figure out the best thing." she says with a small chuckle. "I'm not even forty years old yet. How can my life be over already?" her voice is smooth and deep, and for once you can't stand to listen to it when it shakes slightly with fear.

You refrain from answering her question. There is no right answer, no responses that seem appropriate. You simply do not know what to say.

What you do know is this: she is a beautiful person, so full of life. She has been so very good to you through the years, remaining solidly by your side. Never have you met someone so forgiving and tolerant, so willing to make sacrifices for you.

It's not _fair_.

You know that a woman life her should not be in this position, that nobody should ever be, but she is and it hurts. Physically, it hurts to even breathe because the fear of losing her is suffocating you. But you inhale suddenly to make sure you still can, and she is thankfully still in your arms when you slowly exhale.

"Your life is _not_ over," you tell her finally, voice firm "I am here for you. I am going to stand by your side every step of the way. I am not going anywhere, and neither are _you_."

"I love you," she murmurs, and you echo her words immediately.

When she pulls away from you, you are almost desperate to not let her go. You instantly regret releasing her, miss her warmth as you meet her eyes, and the only thing keeping you from reaching out for her again is the firm grip on your upper arms. When she suddenly pulls you against her and covers your mouth with your own, you are only mildly surprised. You have always been so close, and this… kissing her, even in this situation, only feels natural. The warmth you felt when you were holding her pales in comparison the scorching heat against your mouth, under your fingertips where they land on her face. It's so hard to believe that she really has something inside of her, something so crippling in nature.

God, it's _so not fair_.

"_I love you_," she whispers between soft kisses. "I love you so much. God, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Stop it," you murmur against her lips.

"You don't even know, do you? How grateful I am to have you in my life? How you've saved me so many times, in every way a person can be saved?"

"Why are you saying this?"

"I love you," she says softly, drawing back enough to display her sad smile.

"Damn it," you say fiercely. "Stop it!"

"_I love you_."

You see her trembling like a leaf, feel her grip on your arms growing weak, so you take her hands in yours and kiss her palms. "I love you, too."

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_finis_


End file.
